Hipster Rugrats: What Have You Done
by ReptarLover69
Summary: A hipster teenager's gotta do what a hipster teenager's gotta do. Hang on to your diapies, babies- it's about to get weird. This story takes place two years after the terrible fire that claimed the lives of most of the adults in the Rugrats universe. The Rugrats are now teenage hipsters. Please read and review! Contains strong language and some sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Hipster Rugrats: What Have You Done?

A hipster teenager's gotta do what a hipster teenager's gotta do. Hang on to your diapies, babies- it's about to get weird. Please read and review!

Chapter 1: Tommy's Story-

Tommy hardly ever woke up to the sound of Stu's screams anymore; he was far too used to it. But tonight was an exception. Stu had been shrieking Howard's name and banging his head against the window for 35 minutes now. Tommy stirred in bed and let out a long sigh. Chuck felt his lover's distress and rolled over in bed to lay a tender, sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"I think you should go help your dad" said Chuck.

"He's not my dad, anymore," Tommy said bitterly with a bitter tone in his voice. "My dad died in the fire with yours."

"Yeah, well he's bugging the shit out of the rest of us!" shouted Cockblock Phil. "Go shut him the fuck up!"

Tommy let out another heavy sigh and reluctantly got up. Then he sighed heavily and went upstairs to find Stu sobbing violently and flashing his dick to That Arnie Grape Kid through the giant window that Stu had installed because he is an exhibitionist.

"Stu, what the fuck are you doing? He's a child!" Tommy twisted his "father" away from the window and pulled his pants up for him.

"Tommy," said Stu, dead eyed "Do you remember that time that you and your gay boyfriend, Chuck, thought I was a robot and tried to unscrew my nipples?"

Tommy sighed heavily and said, "No, Stu, I don't. Because I was a fucking infant!"

Stu starred down at his son's crotch. "Well, you still look like and infant to me. Take that fucking diaper off; it's fucking creepy."

"Stu, it's who I am." Said Tommy, really pissed off and shit. He violently grabbed Stu by the shoulders and led him to the couch and pushed him down onto it. "Go the fuck to sleep! You're keeping everyone up. Suzie has to do surgery in the morning." He marched back downstairs, eagerly anticipating Chuck's warm embrace and understanding words.

He got into bed and complained to Chuck.

"Yeah, well at least you still have a dad, Tommy."

Tommy sucked in air through his teeth. "Don't do this to me, Chuck," he warned. "You KNOW how that makes me feel. I keep telling you he's not my dad!"

"Yes he is, Tommy. Like it or not he is." Said Chuck in a defiant manner.

Tommy stared at Chuck in the darkness that was dimly lit by the buzzing neon PBR sign. "I don't need this bullshit, Chuck."

"Tommy, all I'm saying is that you still have a fambily." Tommy stared at his lover in the dim light of the buzzing PBR sign and resisted the urge to sock him right in the mouth. "I don't need your BULLSHIT RIGHT NOW, CHUCK!" he quickly got out of bed, took the comforter, and slept on the couch that night. His only comfort was the feel of his diapee on his skin.

Tommy awoke at around 4 PM in the afternoon. He woke up because Spike was barking at him to let him to let him outside. He got up and walked upstairs, passing behind Chuck, who was writing on his Macbook compooper, unnoticed. He stared at the back of Chuck's orange head for what seemed like a long time and smiled. He just couldn't stay mad at his one true love, but he wasn't ready to swallow his pride and apologize just yet. He continued silently up the stairs without making a sound. He got outside and heard Stu yelling at something in Spike's doghouse.

"Tommy!" screamed Stu. Tommy tried to ignore him, but Stu kept screaming. "I need your help! Spike just isn't getting this!"

Tommy walked up to Stu. "_What_?" he said, confusedly.

"Tommy, I'm trying to teach Spike to hunt, but he must be retarded or something because he isn't getting it at all. Even when I scream in his face."

"Stu! Spike's over in Phil's garden taking a dump."

"Spike! That's my bathroom, Spike!" Stu began to stomp toward his overweight, geriatric dog, but Tommy stepped in his way.

"Tommy," said Stu, "remember that-"

"No, Stu."

"But Tommy!"

"Fuck off, Stu!"

Stu fell to his knees. "Tommy! Come back, Tommy! I just want to talk to you! You're the only thing that I have left!"

Tommy stared at the pitiful creature in the fetal position and felt a pang of guilt and grief.

Thomas Q. Pickles had a flashback to the day of the fire. It was a Monday in June. Dil had asked Tommy if he could go to the movies with him and his friends, but Tommy said no because Dil always screamed through the entire movie. So Dil was forced to go with the adults to the party at Grandpa Lou's Loyal Order of Wombats clubhouse. They were having their annual "Rugrats Parents" dinner. The fire had started when Grandpa was sautéing baked apples in the kitchen with the other wombats, and fell asleep. And so did the other wombats because they were all old. The pan that sautéed the baked apples exploded! The fire spread extremely quickly because the walls of the clubhouse were made of dry crepe paper and were covered in gasoline-based paint. The Wombats were all old and not in possession of all of their faculties when they built the clubhouse. The Wombats were all trapped in the kitchen and everyone else was trapped in the Great Hall, except for Stu- who was outside BBQing and singing scat. Stu sprang into action when he saw the building go up in flames. He rushed in and looked for his wife and son. He could not find Didi, but he did see Dil huddled in a corner crying. "Dil!" screamed Stu, "Stay right there! I'm coming for you!" His son looked up and saw his father valiantly coming to the rescue. A burning beam fell between them and Stu lost sight of his child and could also not hear him, anymore either. He searched and searched for a way to get past the beam, but he began to feel tired and soon passed out.

Tommy and his friends were blissfully unaware of the catastrophe as they watched the latest Reptar movie- "Reptar Goes to College." After the movies, Tommy checked his cellphone and saw that there was a number that he did not recognize. There was also a voicemail. The voicemail was from the hopsicle. It said that Stu was admitted for smoke inhalation and that they needed to come right away. When they arrived, there was a police guy there that told them the horrible news.

Boris and Minka came to pick them all up in a cart that was drawn by a mule- just like in the Old Country- so they could stay with them while Stu was in the hopsicle. But all the kids broke out of the house and went to Tommy's house because there was nothing to do at Boris and Minka's. also, whenever they tried to do anything fun, Boris would grab them and hang them up on the coat rack by their belt loops.

For about a year after The Fire, Stu held up remarkably well he became the legal guardian of Chuckie, Phil, Lil, Angelica, Suzie, and Kimi. He comforted them when they were sad (which was always), he sent them to grief counseling, he took a couple of extra jobs so he could pay for their upkeep. He cooked, he cleaned, and he turned the basement from his inventing area into a hangout/bedroom/communal bathroom for them all. He rarely showed his own grief. Tommy had admired his father's strength and courage. Until one morning when Tommy woke up to some strange noises. He went to investigate and found his father on the roof, completely nakie, howling like a wolf and saying to himself: "My name's Stuie" and "I'm not Stu!" From that day on, Stu kept going in a downward spiral, slipping further and further into inanity and despair. At first Tommy felt badly for his father and tried hard to get him help, but he grew more and more frustrated with Stu's irrational, erratic behavior and racist remarks until he could tolerate it no longer.


	2. Chapter 2

I've gotten quite a few readers and I'm happy about that. I'm glad you've all decided to enjoy my creative vision, but I'd really like to know what you think about it. Please review.

Chapter Two: Stu's Story-

"Dil!" screamed Stu, as he watched his mentally challenged son surrounded by flames.

"Daddy! Fire, Daddy! Fire burn!" Dil desperately reached his arms out to his father.

"I'll save you, Dil!" Stu ran toward his mentally retarded son, but a burning beam fell in front of him. He lost sight of Dil and also couldn't hear him, anymore. "DIL!" he screamed and jolted awake.

Stu, panting, put his hand up to his cold, wet forehead. Relief sunk in when he realized he'd just been dreaming. Dil? Dead? "What an absurd proposition!" He yelled loudly. He reached over to his Jewish wife, Deedee's side of the bed and felt for her. He wanted to touch her Jew boobs. She wasn't there. Also, he wasn't in his bed; he was on his couch. It all came crashing back to him in a crashing realization of crashingness. His retarded son was dead. He did die in that fire. Dil, Deedee, Pop, Drew, Charlotte, Howard, Howard's Lesbian Wife, Chaz, Chaz's Chinese Bride, and Suzie's Black Parents, had all died in that fire two years ago.

Stu sat up on the couch he had been sleeping on (although he didn't sleep much these days) and let out a heavy sigh. He screamed "Dil!" in a flat monotone. He got up and went upstairs. He walked through the dance studio. He placed his hands flat on the wall where his mentally challenged, half-Jewish son's door used to be, slammed his forehead onto his hands and sobbed for 4 hours straight. Then he walked over to where he and Deedee used to slumber. He remembered the picture that his retarded son drew for him the day before the fire. "Drew! Come back, Drew, I just want to talk to you! Please, Drew! If I could just…" "The Sobs," as Stu called them, took over his body and left him unable to complete his plea.

After a good 20 hours of The Sobs, Stu's over-weight, geriatric dog-Spike- waddled over to him. "Stu," said Spike "You need to pull yourself together."

"But it's so hard Spike!" Stu complained, complainingly.

"I know," replied Spike, "I know things are ruff for you. I miss everybody, too."

"You don't understand, Spike. You're the only one that understands me."

"Everything will be okay, Stu." Spike reassured him. Then he pissed on the floor and waddled down the stairs, piss running down his leg with each step.

"Come back!" Stu called in a hoarse whisper like Rose from Titanic. He blew the whistle that he had around his neck shudderingly. Then he said: "Well, this pasta ain't gonna cook itself." And went downstairs to take a bath.

He entered his bathroom, filled the sink and proceeded to take a whore bath, taking extra care to wash his thick, purple chest rug, lest he anger "The Voices." That's why he had a giant X-mas tree in the bathroom- it kept The Voices at bay. "The Voices hated X-mas, the whole X-mas season. Please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason," sang Stu loudly as he shampooed his chest rug to a lustrous shine.

Then Stu saw That Arnie Grape Kid looking in through the giant floor-to-ceiling window that he had installed in the bathroom. That Arnie Grape Kid was shriek-laughing and pointing at Stu. Stu walked over to the window and smashed his twig and berries up against the window that was already greasy from the numerous other times that he had smashed his genitals against it. That only made That Arnie Grape Kid laugh even harder. He was laughing so hard that he wasn't even making any sound anymore- just a series of spastic movements. So Stu figured that he would call Howard to come help him diffuse the situation. "Howard! Howard! Howard!" But Howard didn't show up. So, naturally, Stu started banging his head against the window in frustration.

Stu heard angry footsteps approaching the door. Then he heard the door slam open. Figuring it was The Voices coming to get him, he didn't stop doing what he was doing. It was best to let them think that you were unaware of their existence. "Stu! What the fuck are you doing!?" His hipster son, Tommy, rudely barged in on his peaceful whore bath. "He's a child!" Tommy said as he marched angrily toward him and pulled up his father's pants.

Stu tried to calm his son down by regailing him with a charming story of his youth, but his son was unappreciative. He just didn't understand him these days. Stu then gently expressed concern over his son's choice of wardrobe, but that only made him angrier. Tommy marched his father to the couch and told him to "Go the fuck to sleep."

"Couch, what am I going to do?" He asked. The couch told Stu that he should go to the airport and ride the baggage carousel naked. "I don't know Couch, last time I did that it got me in an awful lot of trouble."

"It'll be fine, Stu. Have I steered you wrong before?"

"No. In fact, you're the only one I can really trust."

"Indeed," said Couch "And when you venture out on the morrow, beware the New World Order- the Illuminati are everywhere."


	3. Chapter 3

Chuck heard Stu's screams piercing the peaceful night. _Uh-oh,_ Chuck thought. _This is going to put Tommy in one of his moods._ He felt Tommy stir next to him and sigh heavily without getting up. Stu's manic shrieks continued to disturb everybody's sleep, but Tommy stubbornly stayed in bed. Chuck knew that he was still awake because when he reached over to place a tender hand on his lover's shoulder, his body felt tense. Chuck was becoming impatient and gently suggested that Tommy go help his father. He knew that referring to Stu as Tommy father pushed his buttons. That was part of the reason why he did it. The other part was because he got irritated when Tommy didn't appreciate the fact that his father was still alive, unlike everybody else's father.

The next day, Chuck wrote about their ensuing argument on his blog- "Through the Haze."

_Hi, all. No creative writing today. Just a personnel post. Tommy and I argued again last night. It just tears me apart to have arguments. I know that its not my fault, or his either. It's this terrible tragedy that's taken hold of every aspect of our lives. I remember a time when Tommy used to be happy. It brakes my heart to see him this way. To see Tommy-"the bravliest baby of all"- so depressed. He's been brave long enough; it's time for me to step up._

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "How's the blog going?" Tommy said from behind him. Apparently, he had a recent change of heart. His bad moods, although frequent, never lasted long. Chuck felt a peck on his freckled cheek.

"It's been going pretty good. I've got a few new readers and they've been leaving some pretty positive comments, so I've been pretty happy about that. I'm a bit concerned, though, because my readership has gone down almost six percent since April, so I'm thinking that maybe I should sell some ad space, maybe start promoting other blogs. Y'know, just really get my name out there."

"That sounds like a great idea," said Tommy. "You're so resourceful." He looked at his lover with a lustful smile on his face.

"So, how's your forum going?" Chuck said amorously.

"Oh, y'know, it's going good. We got a steady new membership lately and people have been writing some very interesting posts."

"Ya don't say?"

"Yeah. There's this new user called LuvsMeTender who started some pretty provocative, even controversial, threads. One of the more popular ones is "Do You Prefer Cloth or Disposable?" and so far it's been split pretty much down the middle, y'know, 50/50."

"So, uh, what kind of stuff do you guys… talk about?"

"Well, mostly, it's pretty normal form talk, but there is a sub forum for specific DL issues, like- how many people know about it; is it sexual or just like, your thing; how long have you known that you're DL; do you wear them all the time, or just like, on special occasions; and do you poop in them."

Chuck stared at Tommy wide-eyed, but Tommy didn't notice; he was too engulfed in forum talk to notice. He continued. "There's this one troll that I keep banning. He's posted under multiple accounts, but I can tell that it's the same guy. I mean, for starters, he keeps coming up with almost identical user names. Like, he created one account under the name DependableGuy and posted some really stupid and gross shit. Then after I banned him, he came back as YouCanDependOnMe. And it's like 'do you think I'm fucking stupid or something?'"

"Yeah," Chuck replied, trying to not seem totally weirded out. "Trolls can be tough. I had one that kept calling me a fag."

Tommy looked at him with concern and sympathy. "Aw, that sucks, Chuck."

There was a pause in the conversation and Chuck, relieved that Tommy was done talking about his forum. Only he wasn't. "So anyway," the purple-haired boy continued, "this guy kept posting about all of his fetishes and shit and his sexual experiences, plus all this adult baby shit. And he'd post pictures of himself dressed up as a baby, in like, feety pajamas with sheep on them and a giant pacifier in his mouth. And it's like, I don't want to see that shit or know about it. The readers don't want to know about it. If you wanna post that shit, there's plenty of places to do that. This is a forum for support and mature discussion among regular people who just happen to like wearing diapees. We're not a bunch of weirdoes like that guy.

Chuck, desperately wanting to change the subject said "You know what we haven't done in a while? Visit the Sexitorium." He gently stroked Tommy's purple, wispy mustache.

The Sexitorium was a room off the basement that had a king size canopy bed with a mirror on the ceiling above; mood lighting; a phonograph; and an armchair across from a TV next to a diverse selection of porno tapes and magazines for when you just felt like "being by yourself." There was a small window for viewing- if everybody was cool with it (but sometimes, CB Phil looked without permission, anyway). Nobody ever cleaned it, so the sheets were very crunchy. There was skeet all over the place. So much skeet that all the girls had to take birth control so they didn't get pregnant just from being in there. If the room was occupied, you were supposed to put one of those stupid hipster scarves on the door knob.

And then some slash happened in the Sexitorium. As the action became more intense, they could see CB Phil's eyes in the viewing window even though they hadn't agreed to it. That's OK, though, because they knew that there love was right and even beautiful. When they were in the throes of love-making, Stu barged in.

"You kids are going to get hurt if you keep climbing all over each other like that." Stu said with genuine concern in his voice.

Tommy leaped off his lover, pulled his diapee up in a defiant manner like he was going to confront Prudence, the Junk Food Kid in that one episode. "Stu, this is the LAST FUCKING STRAW!" he pulled his hand back to strike his used-to-be-father.

"Tommy," Stu said, "did you know that the world is secretly controlled by the Reptarian Elite and that all major world leaders are part of said race?"

Tommy stared at his "father" dumbfounded. "Stu, that's fucking nonsense!" He let his hand fall to his side.

"Yeah, well, did you also know that on the morning of 9/11, over 4,000 Jews didn't show up to work at the World Trade Center because the Israeli Intellegence Agency informed them ahead of time that there was going to be an attack. It's true, Tommy. Read your history. Did you know anything about this?"

Tommy just stood there, mouth agape, his anger boiling up insode him so much that he couldn't even express it. He fell onto the wall and slid down to the floor, putting his head in his hands. Chuck, still nakie, walked over to comfort him. Tommy let out a loud scream of frustration. CB Phil got turned on, and Stu returned to the Dance Studio.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi, everyone! So sorry I haven't uploaded anything in so long, but I've been totes busy with Auto Repair school. Introduction to Carburetors was especially tough. But now that I've taken all my finals and what-not and summer's finally here, you can expect a lot more from me. I should even have one or two more chapters posted within the week, so stay tuned!

Tommy, Chuck, Phil, Lil, Angelica, and Suzy and Kimi sat in a circle on the basement floor smoking a ton of weed and listening to MGMT. All the guys and Lil were shirtless. The cloud of smoke was so thick that they could barely see each other. They had taken all of the smoke detectors out of the basement because they kept going off. (Also, the sound of smoke detectors triggered some very bad memories.) Cans of PBR and Parliament cigarette butts littered the shag carpet-covered floor. The beginning chords of "Electric Feel" sounded.

"You should take this one, Phil." said Angelica unbitchily, "You have a Beautiful Falsetto."

"Thanks, Angelica." He proceeded to sing the song flawlessly and with great passion. His lovely voice rose into the air, piercing the thick haze of ganga smoke. As Phil poured his soul into the song, the rest of the gang closed their eyes and bobbed their heads in unison, except for Kimi, who was completely still and wearing her usual wide-eyed expression. They were all so into it that they didn't even notice when Stu sat down in the circle and joined Phil with his Attractive Baritone. Suzie cranked out a mean didgeridoo solo during the instrumental break.

They all shouted ironically along to the song "America, Fuck Yeah!," except for the part about slavery, when they all sat in hawkward silence because dude, that's not cool. Suzy is African American, man.

During "True Stories" by Datarock, when Angelica shouted "FUCK THE GOVERNMENT!" and "FUCK THE DEMOCRATIC CIRCUS!" she realized that she had forgotten to apply to law school yet again.

"Tommy," said Chuck, "wasn't there something you were apposta do today?"

Tommy thought hard, which wasn't easy because he was, like, waaaaaay out of it. "I don't think so…" he muttered. "Aw fuck me! I forgot to join the Peace Corps again!" He not-muttered. "Damn it! I can't apply now. It's after midnight; the internet's closed! Chuck you're apposta remind me about his shit!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Tommy, but I have my own stuff to remember. And anyway, I'm so baked that I can't even remember where the bathroom is."

Next, a song that Lil wrote about the Patriarchy, and performed with her riot girrrl band, Klitzkrieg, "You're Standing on My Neck" by Splendora, came on. She started the song off with her trademark™ cry of "FUCK THE PATRIARCHY!" That led into a thrashing guitar riff. Kimi instinctively mimed playing the drums while never losing her peyote-glazed stare. After the line "I must be made of granite," there was supposed to be a break in the song, but Stu said, "I must be on another planet." Not to be clever or anything. Stu just sometimes legit believed he lived on Mars.

"Stu!" shouted Tommy, just realizing that his "father" had joined them "How the fuck did you get down here?! I thought I locked the door!"

Stu was wearing a makeshift shirt made out of toilet paper and cuffs made out of PBR cans on his wrists (it was all part of yet another elaborate ritual to keep The Voices at bay.) "Tommy. You're not the only one who keeps a screwdriver in his pants."

Tommy tried to stand up to kick Stu out of the basement, but he was high as fuck, and thus was unable to stand up.

"You're lucky that I'm high as fuck and thus am unable to stand up, Stu!"

"Tommy" said Stu "Did you know that the real Paul McCartney died in an automobile accident in 1966 after leaving the Abbey Road studio and was replaced with a look-alike named William Campbell? Clues to McCartney's untimely demise are hidden in all subsequent Beatles albums as well as in several songs. For example, at the end of "Strawberry Fields Forever," John Lennon can be heard saying 'I buried Paul.' When asked about it on different occasions, Lennon has stated that he in fact said 'I'm very bored' or 'Cranberry sauce.' Also, on the cover of _Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band_, there is a hand over McCartney's head, held in a position not unlike that of a priest giving someone Last Rites."

Tommy stared at Stu for a long moment, impressed with his encyclopedic knowledge on the subject, and with genuine interest in his voice, he said, "Really?"

"It's true, Tommy. The Couch told me."

"Huh. I'll have to look into that." Tom-Tom reflected for a moment. "I still hate you, though."

"Tommy, I am the walrus, Tommy."

And so ends "The Chapter with the Basement."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry that this chapter isn't exactly up to par with the rest of the story. Suzie isn't exactly the easiest character to write about; she's sort of a Mary Sue. But, I hope that you at least find this chapter amusing. Also, keep an eye out for a brief cameo by Gilbert Grape from the 1993 movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?"! P.S. I'm finishing up Angelica's chapter and I'll post it in a couple of days. Trust me, you don't want to miss it!

Suzy sat on the basement floor tokin' it up with the rest of the 'Rats, listening to Electric Feel by MGMT. She inhaled the marijuana smoke and let it dance seductively around her respiratory system for a while before exhaling. She passed the joint to Angelica, picked up her didgeridoo, and closed her eyes in preparation for her mean didgeridoo solo. She was going to blow them away, which wasn't hard b/c they were all extremely stoned and therefor highly susceptible to amazement. Suzy stood up and blew the shit out of that didgeridoo. They all gave her a standing ovation, or they would have if they hadn't had too much THC running through their veins to allow their legs to work. A few songs later, Suzie suggested that they listen to the _Reptar on Ice_ soundtrack, because she was totes cuckoo-bananas for it. Everyone eventually passed out from too much PBR and pot, except for Suzy, who stayed up all night nodding her head and silently lip-syncing to the soundtrack which she had put on repeat. After listening to it for about six hours, she realized that she had to go to her job where she was a surgeon in fifteen minutes.

At the age of 18, Suzie was already an accomplished surgeon. She was by far the most successful housemate and everyone was very proud of her. Even at her young age, her medical knowledge rivaled even that of the distinguished Dr. Howgie Doozer, whose favorite drink was chocolate milk.

When Suzy got to work, Nurse Martinez said, "Dr. Suzie! (I forgot her last name) We're glad you're here. Let's get you prepped for that triple bypass." Suzy stared at her quizzically, with a confused look of puzzlement upon her face. "The 14-hour triple bypass on Mr. Johnson." Nurse Martinez explained, explainingishly.

After a couple of seconds, the gravity of Nurse Martinez's words hit Suzie. "Oh, fuck me! I thought I was doing an appendectomy today! Fuck, I got like, no sleep!"

"Damn it, Dr. Carmichael!" (Carmichael! That's it!) Nurse Martinez said in a melo-dramatic way, like somebody on one of those hospital soaps. (Nurse Martinez originally wanted to be a soap opera actress, but the producers told her that she was too Latina to play the part of Latina Nurse, so she settled for the real thing. But that's neither here nor there.) "Drink a Red Bull! Down a pot of coffee! Take some speed. I don't care what you do, but we need to get you into surgery this very instant, stat! You're the best doctor in this hospital even if you are still high from last night! The patient already has 100 cc's of anesthesia in his system. We can't wait any longer because if he gets anymore, he'll die!"

When Suzy was in the O.R. (Operating Room), fixing Mr. Johnson's heart, she thought of a really funny joke that she had read in the book "1,001 Super Funny Knock-Knock Jokes for Kids" (Suzy used to be the smartest kid in whatever town they live in (I know it's in California, but I don't think they ever said the name) but she had smoked so much weed that she is now only slightly above average.) Anyway, the joke made her laugh so hard that she nicked Mr. Johnson's most important heart vein. Blood shot EVERYWHERE and unfortunately, Mr. Johnson did not make it. He died.

After her hard day of work, Suzy sought comfort in the arms of her boyfriend, Gilbert Grape, from the 1993 movie, "What's Eating Gilbert Grape." They were laying down in a field, watching the sun set. It was very romantical, but Suzie was getting tired of Gilbert constantly making fat jokes about his mother. "My mom's so fat," he began "that when she sits around the house, she seriously damages the foundation."

"Gilbert, you're bummin' me out. As a doctor, I feel like I need to tell you that your mother needs to get her weight under control."

"Hold on, Suze, I got about a million of these. My mom's so fat that she has a lot of trouble doing everyday tasks, such as walking and getting dressed, and is embarrassed to leave the house or have company over. She's so fat that she is at risk for massive heart failure from performing the slightest physical activity. She's so fat that were she to die in the house, which is extremely likely, it would require a crane to lift her body out." He stared at her for a moment. "She's not a joke." He said non-jokingly.

All this talk about morbid obesity was getting Suzie hot. "Oh, Gilbert, I love you!" She threw her arms around him.

"I love you, too. Now take off your fucking clothes." He tore her blouse off and then some not-slash happened.

When they were in the throes of love-making, Stu, stark-ass nakie and fresh from the airport baggage carousel, walked up to them. "Gilbert, where's your brother, That Arnie Grape Kid? I need to teach him a lesson about laughing at other people's packages and interrupting their peaceful whore baths."

Gilbert stopped tongue dancing with Suzie just long enough to say this: "He's home. Or climbing the water tower again, I don't fucking know."

Stu, disappointed that he would not be seeking his retribution today, turned his attention to Suzie. "Suzie, did you know that AIDS and crack were created by the CIA as a means of controlling the black population?" Suzy did not make eye contact. Throughout her years at the Pickle residence, she had learned that it was best not to encourage Stu. "Suzy, as a not-racist, I'm against that. In the immortal words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 'If the honeybee were to completely disappear, the entire human race would die out within four years.' Suzy, the Illuminati are stealing our bees." Stu stared expressionlessly at Suzie for an uncomfortably long time, then sauntered away. Suzie and Gilbert resumed their sweet rubbin', not because they necessarily wanted to, but because neither of them wanted to face what was at home.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hi, everyone. I know I promised like, a month ago that I'd have this chap up in a jiffy, but a lot of stuff has come up since then. Firstly, I got an unexpected invitation to go camping! Second, my auto repair apprenticeship has taken up a lot more of my time than I expected. But, you don't want to hear about me, do you? Anyway, I don't really know when the next chapter will be up. Meanwhile, enjoy this one. It will (eventually) have a second part.

Angelica yanked the joint away from Suzie, tightened her lips around it, and greedily sucked the smoke into her lungs, letting it linger and make sweet love to her lung tissue. She had had this nagging feeling all day that she had forgotten to do something. She went over the day in her mind. She had gotten up early that day, eleven in the morning, to go shopping for a new Lolita dress that she was going to wear on her date tomorrow with her long-term boyfriend of two months, O/C Ted Fenton. Then she went home where she played the guitar for three hours, painted a picture of a giraffe, and made fun of Lil for being lesbian. And she ended her day as she ended most— here in the basement smoking a ton of locally grown, organic weed with her dweeb cousin, his stupid, four-eyes boyfriend, the butch and her catatonic-from-too-much-peyote girlfriend, the douchey femme, and that goodie-two-shoes, Suzie. Although even Angelica had to admit that she could play one mean didgeridoo.  
The song "True Stories" by Datarock came on. Right after the line "Don't worry 'bout the government!" Angelica shouted "FUCK THE GOVERNMENT!" Five seconds later, she remembered what she had forgotten to do that day. "Aw, fuck," she said exasperatedly, "I forgot to apply to law school again!" She was an anarchist who wanted to become a lawyer so she could bring down the system from the inside, but she just couldn't seem to remember to take those first steps. After all, she had so much going on already. Between Lolita and Cynthia Doll™ conventions, spending time with her boyfriend O/C Ted Fenton, and coming up with new and interesting ways of being mean to people for no reason, she had a pretty full plate.  
Next, a song that was written by Chuck and performed by Phil in his beautiful falsetto came on. It was called "The Otherside" and it was a very sad song about death and dying and the people you love dying. Chuck wrote it about The Fire and Phil brought it to life with his amazing vocal performance. By the middle of the song, everybody was crying except for Angelica. She didn't exactly miss her parents. Probably because her mother was so busy with business that she was hardly ever around and her relationship with her father was shallow and parasitic. Also, she resented them because one time, they made her eat broccoli even though she didn't like it. She fell asleep on the floor because 1) that stupid, dumb _Reptar on Ice_ soundtrack was playing. Leave it to Suzy to pick the worst fucking music possible. She didn't give a shit about some dumb old dinosaur falling in love with a girl reporter. And 2) she was too high to get up and go to sleep in her purple unicorn bed. (The 'Rats always managed to get their hands on extremely powerful drugs.)  
The next day, Angelica woke up. She put on her bestest, most prettiful dress (the one she had gotten yesterday. It was black and had big, red cherries all over it. It was super frilly with short, puffy sleeves, and the skirt ended right below her ass cheeks, so that when she bent over, you could see her pink, lacey underwear with glitter in it. She was also wearing polka dot stockings and sparkly red maryjanes with big, shiny bows on top.) She put her hair up in pigtails and held them in place with shiny, red ribbons. She grabbed Cynthia (who was already in her matching outfit) and then it was off to the house across the street to meet up with O/C Ted Fenton, her boyfriend.  
She rang the bell to the house where O/C Ted Fenton lived, only O/C Ted Fenton didn't answer the door. It was that stupid Lisa Simpson that she couldn't stand. O/C Ted Fenton lived with the Simpsons.  
"Oh, it's you." Said that stupid Lisa Simpson, flatly.  
"Shut up, Lisa!" demanded Angelica, pushing Lisa out of the way. "Where's O/C Ted Fenton?" She demanded.  
"I wouldn't know. I've been up in my room practicing my saxophone all day." What a little snob!  
"You think you're so great just because you can play the saxamaphone. Just like Suzy and that stupid fucking didgeridoo. You're just a dumb show-off smarty-pants."  
"You know, Angelica," said that pointy-haired mini-bitch, "I know that, as a child, society says that it's not my place to question my elders, but I find it difficult to feel insulted when the person hurling said insults at me is a grown woman who wears provocative children's clothing and carries a doll around."  
It took Angelica a couple of seconds to come up with something mean to say. (Slow reaction time because of all the pot.) "Yeah, well… you don't have any friends!" Then that stupid Lisa Simpson ran up the stairs crying. Angelica smirked. She saw something out of the corner of her eye. It was a baby with a pointy head and a pacifier wearing a blue… sack…thing, I guess. She was waving hello to Angelica. "You dumb baby." She muttered. She wondered if the Simpsons had any cookies in their house, so she went into the kitchen to look around. She found O/C Ted Fenton in there drinking a Duff Beer and playing poker with Homer, who was supposed to be at work, and also some other people, too. O/C Ted Fenton stood up.

"Hey, Angelica Baby. Is it time for our date already? I must have lost track of time, because I've been watching porn all day." O/C Ted Fenton and Homer could skip work and watch porn and play poker all day because Marge was away at a housewives business trip in Capital City.

"No, I'm just early." Angelica said while snooping around the cookie jar. She turned around to face O/C Ted Fenton and stroked one of her yellow pigtails suducingly. "I just couldn't stay away from my O/C Ted Fenton for long." She said, biting into a chocolate chip cookie that was gross and burnt because Marge was a terrible cook and shopped for food at the 33 Cent Store. (Bart's drug rehab put an enormous financial burden on the family.)

O/C Ted Fenton stood up and took Angelica into his arms. The two embraced way too intimately and made out, slopping all over each other like horny animals, for way too long as Homer, Lenny, Carl, and Moe looked awkwardly around the room and Barney slowly drank himself to death.

After they were done with their completely inappropriate public display of affection, Homer tried to break the hawkward silence. "So, a date, huh? Are you guys going out for some frosty chocolate milkshakes?" He said in his weird, Almost-Homer voice from 1989.

O/C Ted Fenton replied with an extremely graphic description of a sex act involving poop and Angelica's boobs. They left and Homer seriously regretted taking on a boarder to help pay for The Boy's crack rehab. He decided that Lisa and the baby were going to have to sleep in his and Marge's room until they were no longer in need of O/C Ted Fenton's rent money.

After their date, they went back to the Pickle's house and had themselves some "nasty, freaky fuck-time" (O/C Ted Fenton's words, not mine) in the Sexitorium. Angelica had just gotten a copy of "KamaPOOtra: A Fecalphiliac's Best Bedroom Friend (Besides Shit, I Mean)" at the local book store. They were so into it that they didn't care how disgusting the room was. They had too much weird stuff to try; crunchy sheets be damned!

All that disgusting fetish sex had gotten them famished so they went upstairs to get some veggie sliders that Suzy made with her Billy Mays-endorsed Big City Slider Station. There they found Stu, still in his make-shift toilet paper shirt (which was now soaked in various bodily fluids), writhing on the floor in a puddle of his own tears/piss.

O/C Ted Fenton looked quizzically and puzzlefully at Stu, then at Angelica for an explanation. "Don't worry about him. Uncle Stu does this sort of thing all the time."

Stu stopped mid-writhe and opened one eye. "Who the hell are you?" He said flatly while staying perfectly still.

"Uncle Stu, this is my boyfriend, O/C Ted Fenton."

"I'm very well-aware of Mr. O/C Ted Fenton and his work. I meant you." He starred at Angelica.

"I'm your niece, Angelica."

Stu said nothing, but continued to stare at her with lusterless, dead eyes.

"Your bestest, most favoritest niece in the whole world? I've lived here for two years?"

"Drew never had a kid."

"Uncle Stu, don't you remember? I spent most of my childhood here because my parents were always too busy to pay attention to me."

"DREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"


End file.
